The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1887-01-26
A ROLLING MILL.
NIGHT SCENES
IN AN IRON FOUNDRY.
Natures Awful Element Familiar
and Submissive FOrce-Pud-
dlers at Work-Piles of
Iron Turned Into Rails.
Never in a rolling mill, eh?

Never In rolling mill, eh!
Never saw Kissing hot IRON drawn
through and through the nicely adjusted
rolls trailing along the heated plates
with uplifted head for all the world like
great ite-hcated serpent? To a
stranger the sight is at once grand and
terrible, and once seen is never forgot
ten. He can with difficulty control his
fear, and would escape, yet is fascinated
by the horrid familiarity displayed all
around him. 1t is like glimpse of the
hereafter to his perturbed mind, this dal-
lance with natures most dreadful ele-
ment. He is bewildered by the rush
of swart-bodied, iron muscled work
men all about him. He is deafencd
by the roar of the flying rolls, all
hungry for their molten meal. The re-
lentless heat pursues his uncovered face
with wicked intent. The soles of his
feet burn from contact with the iron
flooring. Great, deep -throated furnaces
are opened, and bclch devouring flame
and sitting smoke into his oppressed
countenance. Snlphurous odors, rising
from the nder-beds, invade his nos
trils. And, worse than all, just as he
thinks himself safest from harm there is
a roar from the rolls, rivaling the boom
of hundred-pounder. A great sheet of
sparks seeks the horizon of the smoke
begrimcd roof and descends in graceful
curve. One of the many falls gently
anil trustingly behind the observers
shirt collar-only one of the million
gently it inserts itself, but so convincing
L., lon In :fc 1nnr1yr, fhot
a council of physicians will not at first
convince him he is not smoldering vol
cano. He writhes 'reath the intiiction
and fain would flee, but sharp eyes are
upon him, and the mill men dearly love
to laugh at a tenderfoot.
If the visit be made at night the scene
takes on brilliancy that cannot be sur
passed. Without all is dense darkness,
only relieved by the red flames pouring
from some of the lofty stacks or white
points of light peeping through the
closed hampers of others, ample indica-
ton that cheat" is in waiting below,
or else that q change of turn is on. All
is quiet within. Contagious laughter
from some point hints of group of
storytelling youngsters ensconced in
warm nook between chimneys. Brawny
heaters stand about in knots discussing
some topic of common import, and puff
Gng industriously the while at their
short black pipes. Occasionally q fur
mace door is thrown upward for an in
slant, shedding a bold light on massive
timbers, and filling with a ruddy glow
the face of the heater, who, with eyes
half closed, peers into its depths. Away
off to one side, in the darkness, the pud-
dlers stir and stir away as persistently
as O good wife at her mush kettle.
They are the men who work over the
pig iron which is so constantly starred
in the market reports. Their furnaces
are arranged with bottom depressed.
The metal is thrown in and soon melts
to the consistency of water. From this
state by stirring and judicious applica-
tion of scales and scraps from the rolled
iron it thickens until it has sufficient ad-
hesive force to be formed into balls. AS
he works his bar through the little
arched aperture in the door, the puddler
chaffs with his comrades sitting about
him on the water "bosh," in which the
working-irons are cooled, or on piles of
rusty metal. Once solidly formed, the
heat is ready. The signal is given. Away
90 the rolls with ever-increasing roar.
Men issue from the darkness. Madcap
BOYS run in breathless and laughing at
some prank played upon work-fellow.
All, to the visitor, is confusion worse
confounded, yet he should know that
order was never so framed in ap-
parent disorder as in the iron
works. But yonder comes the
puddlcr, dragging his heated burden be-
hind him on "buggy." The vehicle is
made with bowl-shaped top, in which
the ball reposes. Arrived at the rolls,
he backs the buggy tothe required point
and deftly dumps its contents into the
sssoueezers," or tcoffee mills" as the
machine has been dubbed by the younger
element. In these it is compressed and
elongated into cylindrical shape, and is
fed to the rolls, through which it passes
again and again, and finally stretches out
on the plates perfect bar of iron, ready
to be shcared into lengths. The drag.
ger out" takes hold with his tongs and
pulls it to the cooling bed There it lies
with others of its kind, and when cold is
taken to the shears, which are exceed
ingly heavy -jawed, and sever it into
lengths as easily as a tailor clips his
cloth.
The process is simple and the pro-
cedure sleepy to au active spirit: 1t is
in the rail-mill that one has his blood
stirred and his interest thoroughly
aroused. 1t is lightning work. A tre-
mendous amount of labor is compressed
into seconds of time. Think of pile
of iron not more than five feet in length
by seven inches high and six inches wide
being drawn out to the full length and
prop ,rtion of rail, and this in less than
two minutes time from the moment the
heated mass shot through the first open
ing in the rolls. The occasion for such
labor has passed oway. The steel rail
has superseded its more perishable coun-
terpart, but the retrospect is interesting
to him who has once come into contact
with its bewildering intricacies.
But the heat has been run off, the wild
rush is over. The rolls cease their thun-
derous play. The furnaces are re-
charged. The boys return to their story
telling, and the observer goes away,
rich in experience and broiling hot
Cincinnati Enquirer.